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by Antartique on Mon May 17, 2010 12:38 am
Ebsen. The Oasis of Death, the Place where Nights Vanished, the Mouth of the End. Ebsen. Framed by the Sunset, the sound of bells chiming loudly over the loud chirping of devils as they came out of their holes to cause mischief. The sound of Death itself.
He remembered the tales he had been told as a kid, his Mother's heartbroken's voice being the only thing he could hear clearly from his childhood. 'Never go in there', she had said. 'Never head back there'. He had bowed to not do it, but the past events had already broken the limit for 'never'. He had to know. He had to see. He had to feel on his own exactly what was so wrong about his Mother's hometown.
He remembered the tales he had been told as a kid. And he remembered the tales he had been told as he studied. And now, at twenty seven, he remembered the tales he heard from traveling around looking for the entrance to the world of Demons. Maybe, just maybe, Ebsen was the door that would lead him there, to the world where his Mother had gone and returned from, broken and empty with the exception of her womb.
Maybe there wasn't a world of Demons. Maybe Ebsen was the place where they spawned. Maybe it held the key to solve the mystery they were. Maybe, just maybe, the answers he had been looking for, since birth, would be there.
But nothing would advance if he stayed outside the gates. The sandstorm was getting closer, he could hear them, and he didn't want to cross paths with it. Walking had already gotten hard, as the wind created small storms on his feet and the sand got caught in his cloak. He shielded his eyes with an arm, holding the silver walking stick (a proud proof of his profession) tightly and trying not to trip on his way.
There was an old man sitting on the road. Had he given up already? He guessed anyone would, living in such a place for so long. But it was no use worrying for the man, so he ignored him completely. A certain Demoness, however, did not, and as he walked past her he bowed his head. Respect your elders, and Demons were mostly old.
As he walked past the Demoness he wondered, would there be an Inn in Ebsen? There should be, demon hunters dropped almost daily to train their minds against their enemies. Perhaps it would be expensive, perhaps he wouldn't find one. But there was one thing he knew for sure.
He wasn't leaving until he had his answers.
~-*-~
Bells. Those annoying bells that announced the coming of nightfall, for four hundred years. The day they had been put in there had been something to the remember, as most devils had been pissed at the idea someone had dared to try and show them how things were done.
Ah, bells. The beautiful sound Kejhwa previously liked, now had turned into something she despised. The coming of nightfall. Right. In the past she had actually looked forward to hearing them every night, as hunters and new people came out from their shelters and began looking for something. For what, she never understood. Humans could be greedy, and she was a demon.
Did she act the part of a demon? Her rather big horns were a prominent feature when walking through Ebsen bathed in moonlight, but most people didn't fear her much any longer. They feared her horns, her eyes, her tail, but not her as a whole. According to other of her race, she wasn't... as devilish as she should. She didn't kill people for the fun, she didn't enjoy the chorus of screams as she tortured little boys, she didn't... really mind.
She was older than any other creature in Ebsen anyways. Such things had long since stopped being funny. No human could reach her age, and most of the little devils that wandered around didn't go older than five hundred as humans killed them.
Humans were disgusting. And rather interesting too.
Carna was full of humans. But for the thousand years she had been alive (might be more, she lost count after the third hundred), they had never approached the Demons. They remained in their own towns, isolated from the other people, in self supported little state cities of their creation. They had stayed away.
But now there were hunters. It was full of them. Back when Lord Maelgwyr had been alive they didn't even come near Ebsen. Now they walked the town as if it was their own, in day and night alike. Ebsen, the Paradise of the Hunters... Yeah right.
Well, the bells had stopped. Night was falling closer and closer, and she had a Tomb to guard. Now, though, was time for a break. There was a rather nice family that had offered her food, and while humans were disgusting, she couldn't deny their food was delicious.
As she walked down the road heading for the tavern, she pondered on the many people living around. Most of them she knew by name, and she had seen people leave, people die, new births... ew arrivals.
A man walking the opposite way bowed before her and turned her head around as she walked past. He was an odd one, and gave a rather interesting impression at first glance, dressed in all gray, with a silver cane held in hand... Iokme? The Seaside City... Although it wasn't really a sea, most like a big Oasis surrounded by at least five cities. Besides he smelled sort of odd. And it wasn't just... salt odd. Perhaps a half-bred?
But it was no fun pondering on people she would just see for a while. Here was another interesting person in town. Without hesitation, she sat besides the oldest human of Ebsen.
"Good evening, Simon. How are you tonight?"
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